


Like Chocolate for Nicotine

by IO_3401



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Acting, Bev and Eddie are best friends!, Drug Use, Eddie is still kind of a momma's boy, F/M, High School, Innocent Eddie, Jock!Richie, M/M, Minor benverly, Minor billverly, Multi, Nerd!Eddie, Other, Reddie, Richie is an ass at first, Richie isn't friends with the losers club, Slow Burn, Theatre, Underage Drinking, but not too slow because no one likes that shit, chapters are 3000+ words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IO_3401/pseuds/IO_3401
Summary: Eddie's entering junior year with more confidence than ever. He's going to be sure these last two years go off without a hitch. He's in the top 10 of his class, he has amazing friends, a crush on the choir's lead singer, and a sense of pride stronger than anything he's ever felt. There's only one problem.Richie Tozier.His newly found confidence is costing him the solitude that came with being a nobody. Complete-asshat and local-jock Richie can't seem to leave Eddie alone whatsoever. Every single passing period and lunch period Eddie's rushing through the halls and praying he doesn't run into him. As the harassment grows and Eddie's sanity diminishes with each comment and shove, he's not sure if he can make it through one semester before snapping.Suddenly he sees something he shouldn't have and he's thrown into a world of conflict, drinking, addiction, and abuse. He's not sure if he can get out of this unscathed, much less while dealing with conflicting feelings.One thing is certain, and that's that this will be a school year like no other.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently watched Love, Simon and caught up with season 2 of Glee (Yeah I know it's from 2010 but I'm trash) and I was really motivated to write this! I've always been a fan of Reddie and all my past fics with it have failed so I'm going to try again. I know 'bad boy' Richie AUs are overdone and all but it's something I think I could have fun writing. 
> 
> My writing is probably going to be all over the place but I hope this good! Just a prologue but I think it's okay for what it is.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a shitty prologue, I don't like it but I don't have heart enough to delete it so feel free to skip it by all means

**Ringing.**

That's all Eddie could hear as he darted around the corner, heart racing wildly. The lump that was caught in the back of his throat earlier was now the size of the large sundae he'd be sharing with Beverly now if he'd only gone the long way. His throat felt swelled shut as he raced down a nearby staircase, skipping a few steps and almost tumbling the rest of the way down. The floorboards felt like they were purposely creaking as loud as possible just to spite him for being foreign in this scary place. Somewhere in the distance, he might have sworn his name being whispered, but right now the ringing in his ears drowned almost everything else out. \

In the rush of the moment, his foot suddenly slipped out beneath him and he was hurtling down the steps. Eddie choked back a cry as his body flew forward and his back violently smashed down onto the edge of a step. He rolled down several more stairs, groaning sharply as the back of his head snapped back, hitting something hard and stone. As he stilled he choked out a loud gasp, struggling to catch his breath. His lungs were on fire and for a second he couldn't remember how to breathe. His back arched as his arms scrabbled beside him, clawing for something to grasp. 

_Inhaler, inhaler, inhaler...!_

A voice sounding scarily akin to his mother's screeched in his head, making the ringing grow even louder. He squinted his eyes hard, invisible arms of gravity still holding him down. After what felt like hours his eyes fluttered open and he was breathing again. Heavily, but all the same.

**Darkness.**

He froze for a moment, before slowly turning as a new sense of dread overcame him. He swallowed hard as he stared straight into the inky blackness surrounding him. The quiet hum of the stairway light was thankfully all he could hear. It barely helped to illuminate anything whatsoever, but he could somewhat make out the shape of several clutters piled on bookshelves and tables. Most of it appeared to be rusty machine parts, tattered rags and piles of clothes, and little knick-knacks, something a kid would collect. Cobwebs coated everything and it smelled just like the nursing home Eddie used to visit his grandfather in. His hand twitched where it rest on the floor, reminding him of the dusty, dirty texture there. The brunet gave it a second look-over before he grabbed the railing and struggled to his feet.

Eddie briefly stopped as he suddenly realized where he was.

A basement.

It clicked and for a split second, Eddie was relieved. Until he remembered why he was running here in the first place.

_Richie-_

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fast-approaching footsteps. 

The ringing started up again.

The panic immediately set in and without hesitation, Eddie was rushing into to dark. He blindly pushed past several wooden objects, not even whimpering as something sharp pricked the side of his face. He fumbled forward emptily, reaching for anything that could indicate an object he could hide behind. He was met only with a cold cement wall, riddled with bits of dog-eared posters that barely clung to it. Eddie looked around wildly, hoping he could find anything in the pitch-black room to help him. In his desperation, he dropped to all fours. He crawled forward, feeling around in anguish. His hand brushed against something flat and textured, relieving him slightly. He felt it again before reaching out to find several others, some of them seeming to be glass. Squinting hard, he tried to adjust his eyes to make out what it might be. The faces of several people, smiling wide and holding each other closely. Family portraits and photos. 

Eddie stared only for a moment. He crawled beneath where they were leaning against a bookshelf, doing his best to make himself as small as possible. He shuffled back to the wall. His breath hitched and the room was silent again. It felt like hours before Eddie heard anything besides his own raspy breathing. He stared forward through a small gap in the portraits, studying the small patch of light he could just barely view with intensity.

A set of footsteps broke the silence. Eddie held his breath and willed his heartbeat to calm. The violent beating in his head was so loud he swore it was audible to anyone within a mile.

The steps stopped for a moment before continuing. They echoed throughout the room sending chills down Eddie's spine. Any second he could be caught and who knows what would happen then? Richie would probably gut Eddie alive and then light him on fire or something along those lines.

The person walked around for a few minutes, occasionally kicking things around but aimlessly wandering.

Richie walked forward. The sound of something softly thudding made Eddie hiss under his breath, before slapping a hand over his mouth. His eyes remained locked forward on the light, unable to look away. Something else was pushed down as Richie seemed to shuffle through a pile of clothing. He gave up a few items later, kicking something solid to the side. Richie continued wandering around the basement, occasionally stifling through random objects. 

Richie snorted after several moments, seeming slightly irritated. He gave one last look around before Eddie heard him begin to march back up the stairs.

Eddie softly sighed and leaned forward, blinking the spots in his vision back. The sudden movement shook the bookcase, making something heavy clutter to the floor.

Eddie's heart stopped on impact. 

As if on cue, Richie's steps stopped and he turned. He stared into the bleak void and directly down at Eddie. His red-rimmed eyes twinkled.

"Found you."


	2. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bev and Eddie meet up for the first day of junior year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 yeET-  
> It's a little short but most of my chapters will be about 3,000 words or more, that way it's easier for me to stay motivated and update.

The rain fell hard and fast, in thick sticky globules that clung to the earth and dissipated the second it touched down. Well, he supposed it was sleet then. Whatever it was, it stuck to the bottom of Eddie's collar in the worst way. He attempted to shrug it off but with no luck. All he could do was sigh and wait. Beverly should have been here ten minutes ago.  They were supposed to drive to school together the first day, hell, he even got up early so they could get breakfast that was somewhat edible- aka not-school-food. But here he was waiting in the rain- sleet, sacrificing his picture-perfect hair he spent several minutes styling this morning to a thunderstorm. Just his luck it  _sleets_ the one day of the year (besides picture day) he needs to look semi-decent. The first day has always been a big deal, it probably always will. Meeting up with the gang after a somewhat busy summer, making a good impression with new students he'll share classes with and teachers he'll take this year, other stuff? He doesn't ponder it too long, he just knows it's important. He could be doing these things but here he was, standing in the rain as he waits for Beverly to show up with her aunt's convertible. If he knew she'd be taking this long he would have just walked to school.

Eddie tugs at his collar, wishing he wore something a little heavier now.

Across the street, a homeless woman pushes a broken shopping cart full of tearing paper-bags and tattered old clothes. He considers ignoring her, but the weather is bad and his conscience wouldn't let him disregard an elderly struggling woman. Eddie looks both ways before he crosses the street, grunting as he feels dirty street-water backsplash onto him. When he reaches her, she 's struggling to push the cart up over a crack in the sidewalk. He taps her shoulder and offers his best smile.

"Hi, I couldn't help you struggling a little. Do you need help?"

She blinks at him as if struggling to remember something before she smiles back making wrinkles form on the side of her eyes. "Yes, thank you, dear." She moves aside so he can pick her shopping kart up slightly and push it over the cart. He asks where she's going; she tells him she's trying to make it to a woman's center a few blocks away.

"I could walk you if you'd like." 

"I would appreciate that but I wouldn't want to take up your time." 

Eddie laughs softly, pushing a damp curl out of his eyes. "Really, it's fine. I'm waiting on a friend and I'm guessing she's going to be a while. Let me walk you."

And so he helps to old woman cross the street, and together they start walking. It's silent for a minute or two before she's asking his name.

"Edward. Or Eddie, that's what most of my friends call me."

She smiles. "My husband's name was Edward. He was a good man."

And so she starts telling him about her husband Edward. He was from down south and she was born in Vermont. She moved up to Portland in her teens and he joined the army around that time. She graduates from high school and he gets back and visits Portland because his friend is from there and he's heard good things about the Pine Tree state girls. They meet at a dance and at first, they fight constantly and hate each other. The woman- who he later learns is Martha- tells him her friend and his friend are getting married so they meet again at the wedding. She finds him funny and he thinks she's the smartest girl in all of the Northeast. They have a few laughs and he says he wants to see her again. So they start dating and a few months in Martha finds out she's pregnant. They're both real Christian so they decide to marry. Get married, have two more kids. Edward gets drafted to Vietnam and he writes to her every week. He comes back when the war ends but he's not the same. Gets addicted to some drug and yells and hits her. She takes the kids and leaves. He later ODs and dies and Martha is left struggling. Her parents take her kids and she tries New York for work. Does okay for a while but eventually ends up back on the streets. She eventually makes it back up to Maine and into Derry. She's trying to get back on her feet, get help with this shelter and get a job so maybe one day she has enough to visit her hometown and try visiting her kids; it's been 10 years. She still has Edward's letter.

Eddie frowns. He has a lot of questions but he doesn't feel right asking."I'm sorry."

She gives a reassuring smile. "It's fine dear. That's just life. Things like this happen. You just have to take what you're given and live with it the best you can. Anyway, enough about me. How about this friend of yours?"

The brunet smiles at that. "Oh, Beverly? She's something else, I'll give her that. Real.... _'firery_ '. That's one way to describe her."

Martha laughs. "'Firery'? So she's a lady friend, then?

Eddie immediately knows what she's referring to, but doesn't let it bother him. He gets this a lot. "Not exactly that kind of lady friend." He chuckles a little.

"So is there anyone you like then?"

Eddie pauses, not knowing what to say for a second. He considers telling, but he pushes it down. He's not going to chance it. 

"I guess, yeah... _she_ has this pretty long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She's tall and part of the choir. I don't think I have a chance though, I don't know if she's ever even noticed me." He winces when he realizes he sounds really despairing, and considers throwing an 'it's not a big deal, though' out there but Martha stops him with a smile.

"Don't worry, you're young. If she's a good girl she'll like a sweet, kind boy like you without question. If not, there's plenty of other girls out there who will love you no matter. Chivalrous lads like yourself are hard to come by these days."

Eddie beamed. She hummed the rest of the way until they were at the woman's center and she bids him goodbye. He waves back and turns around, heading back to his designated waiting spot. The rain's getting a little heavier and the wind just started picking up. He considers just walking to school now, but just as he decides the familiar sound of Bev's Vauxhall Astra mkII convertible rolling up beside him.

He pushes a hand up to his brow as he turns to watch her pull up beside him.

"Hey asshole," Bev greets as she rolls down her tinted window.

"Hey Bev," he returns, smirking a little.

"Mind telling me where the hell you were?" 

"Healing the sick, Bev. Not my fault you were running over 10 minutes late."

Beverly snorts in false mock as Eddie walks around and opens the car door, sliding into the passenger's seat beside her. 

" I was not."

"Uh-huh."

"Eddie, you're soaking up my seats!"

He snorts and just rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat just to annoy her.

She just laughs and puts a tape on. After a few seconds it comes on and Eddie's immediately not having it.

"Really, Beverly?  _Queen? This early?_ "

Beverly grins. "What? Queen is good all time a day."

"I'm sorry Bev, I can't handle Freddie Mercury this early in the morning. I just can't."

Beverly breaks into a fit of giggles as Eddie tries to wrestle the tape out and pushes him back.

" _Mama, just killed a man, put a gun against his head-_ "

"Beverly!" Eddie exasperates.

" _Pulled my trigger, now he's dead._ "

They show up to school 15 minutes later, McDonald's in hand as they didn't have time for anything else. Beverly is laughing as Eddie complains about his favorite song coming on just as they arrive. Beverly prodded at his hair, snickering to herself.

"Oh my god, Eddie. Your hair is the perfect representation of a bird's nest right now. Any second now a pair of robins are going to come down and-"

"Screw you," Eddie glares as he swats her hand away,"not my fault you took your sweet time this morning and left me in the  _rain_ for ten minutes. You know I actually style it and put the effort in this time?"

"Relax, I brought a blowdryer and hairspray. You're safe."

"Prepared as always I see." A familiar voice breaks in before Eddie can retort. Before he sees who it is, Beverly is rushing them into a tight hug. 

"Stan!" He snorts with an unsurprised smile and returns her embrace. " I missed you so much this summer! You should have seen how boring and tiring it was having to deal with Eddie's moping and whining. He just would not stop-"

The brunet ignored the redhead and just joined them, wrapping an arm around Stan's shoulders.

"How was San Francisco? I heard you guys flew over the golden gate bridge."

Stan chuckles and pulls back from Beverly. "The golden gate bridge was nothing compared to everything else we saw there. I'll tell you guys inside, c'mon. Bill and the others are already in."

 The second they enter the school, Eddie is hit with that familiar smell. Books, perfume and ax, that sketchy teenage smell that's always there no matter what, a hint of weed as a stoner kid comes in behind them...yup. That's high school. It's like a library but with hormones. The first time he came in as a freshman he crinkled his nose the entire first month. Now it was just there. He'd changed a lot since then. He was going to be 16 now in October, but it felt like forever ago since he'd been that naive, shy 13-year old entering high school with constant anxiety and fear of what the future would hold. He was determined now, almost proud. He was happy.

Speaking of change...

"Bill!" Eddie called as soon as he caught sight of the taller brunet. Bill turned around and immediately had a big grin plastered on his face. 

"Eddie! It's been a while, how are you?"

Eddie rolled his eyes and came in for a hug. "It's been two weeks, Bill. Still the same as when we last met."

"Woah," Beverly cut in, marching in behind Stan. "How the hell did you grow another two inches in the month I haven't seen you?"

"Hey, Bev," Bill smiled at her, releasing Eddie so he could give her a hug. 

"Both of them," Eddie said, looking over. "They're at least 5'10" meanwhile I'm still here with my sad five feet and six inches of existence."

"You are  _way_ too overdramatic, Eddie." Beverly tsked. She gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. "You're still 15 right? It's fine."

Eddie snorted. "So where's Ben and Mike?"

"Uhm, I think they went to go get their schedules? We should probably get ours too, and check out our lockers. I'm hoping I get one next to you guys, mine was next to Gretta's last year and that was horrible."

They all agreed and started out towards the counselor's office, picking up their schedules and meeting Ben and Mike. They pulled off to a secluded corner, just out of earshot to the rest of the world.

"Jeez, you got tall Mike," Eddie breathed out, looking the taller boy up. "Like, really tall. I thought Bill and Stan had outdone me, but you bested us all. What are you, six foot?"

Mike flashed his teeth as he snickered. "6'1."

"Okay," Bev started, studying her paper. "What electives did you guys pick for this semester?"

"P.E., poetry, and st-student council."Bill squinted at his page, frowning. "That's not right though, I think I'm going to switch out poetry for writing. The counselors messed up my schedule."

"Who willingly picks P.E. as an elective? As soon as I finished it freshmen year I'd had enough." Stan jested."I got student council too, then chess and photography."

"Of course you did." Beverly quipped.

"Mike and I actually got P.E. too," Ben remarked, causing Stan to tsk in disappointment. "Then I have poetry and computer engineering."

"Geek." Mike laughed. "Civics and band, but I might change that."

Eddie frowned at his paper. "This sucks, I don't think I have any electives with you guys. I have theatre, French, and debate."

Beverly cackled, resting a hand on his shoulder."What are you doing in theatre or debate? No offense Eddie but you're not really....loud? Extroverted?"

"I'm fine with theatre, I picked it because I figured I could get away with props and piano and just sleep the rest of it, but I didn't pick debate."

"Why don't you switch it out for culinary arts then? You can take it with me." The redhead offered, giving him one of her infectious smiles.

"I mean, sure? I haven't cooked in a while, I guess it would be nice to learn." Eddie shrugged, unsure.

Bev nodded excitedly."Precisely. Oh, we should pro-"

They were cut off by the sound of muddled yelling and mixed talking. A group of jocks walked nearby, drowning out all other noises.

"Of course," Stan groaned. "Fucking Tozier and his gang."

Bill offered a hand on Stan's shoulder, which the other happily leaned into.

"God he's annoying," the blond went on. "I had him for English and history last year and he made those classes a living hell. He was always arguing with the teacher and making offensive jokes, him and the Criss kid. It was horrible."

"I hear he's dating that Aubrey girl, now." Bev murmured, eyes locked on the group.

"Fine with me. As far as I know, he's with a new girl every other week."

"No, this one is serious supposedly. It lasted all summer from what I've heard."

"Whatever," Stan dismissed, turning his back to them. "There's barely enough brain cells between the two of them to hold an intelligible conversation."

Bill gave him a soft smile. "Ignore them. We should probably go get our lockers and start trying out the combinations."

Bev glanced away. "Actually me and Eddie have to go fix his wreck of a mane, we'll meet you guys later."

They nodded in agreement and parted ways, Beverly grabbing Eddie by the wrist and leading him down the hall. Eddie couldn't help but glance behind them for a brief moment. He caught sight of the jock group still there, huddled and talking. He recognized a few but most of them were strangers to him. He glanced over Tozier, caught on him for a second, but he turned back, too far away to make out any features. He and Bev eventually found themselves in the art hall bathroom on the other side of the school. This hall was relatively empty, with only two open classrooms in it at the moment. Most people didn't use them because of how inconveniently far away they were, and because of the rumor of crabs or whatever STD being in them. 

"Alright," Bev whispered, pulling the blow dryer out of her bag and plugging it into the wall. "Your hair air-dried mostly, it's just a little damp now. Should only take a minute or so." Eddie nodded and sat crossing his legs beneath her. She turned it on and started going at his hair, using a comb to help style it every now and then. The brunet remained, with his knees pulled up to his chest as he waited. 

He considered telling Bev for a moment, about his little summer fling. It felt too sudden and just gave him a bad feeling in his chest, so he pushed it down. Maybe next time. 

She finished a few minutes later, giving it a puff of hairspray so it wouldn't try re-curling again if it was still rainy later.

"So K-man, now that it's just the two of us, is there anything you want to tell me?"

Eddie froze for just a second. "No, why?"

Beverly hummed as she put all of her things back into her bag, zapping it up. "Oh nothing. It just feels like you've never had a crush or anything before. Not one that you've told me about anyway." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Eddie looked away, studying the tile on the floor.

"So there has been one?"

She was too good at reading him. Shit. 

"Maybe." 

Maybe he could tell her? Not entirely but at last somewhat.

"Are you going to tell me who?" She asked, joining him on the floor. 

"No, you have to guess."

"Hmm...Gretta Bowie?"

Eddie gasped in mock offense. "How dare you!"

Beverly laughed, pushing her bangs back.

"How about...Ms. Greene?"

Eddie just crinkled his nose. "No. She destroyed any chances of crushes being possible when she gave out that 2000 word essay last year."

"Wait, is it me?" Beverly asks with a teasing look.

"God, no." Eddie laughs, shaking his head. "You're way too spicy, Bev. I'd get burned."

"Probably." She chuckles back. "Okay, I really can't guess, so will you at least give me their features or something?"

"Fine, but that's it, final hint." Eddie pulled his legs closer, thinking for a moment. "Okay, so blond hair, about shoulder-length?"

"Mmm-hmmm?"

"Blue eyes, really really bright. Freckles but you'd hardly notice them. Tall I guess?"

"And?"

"And that's all you get."

"What!? Eds, that's like half the girls here!" Beverly groaned.

"Yup. Enjoy." He smiled at her, pulling on his sleeve.

The ten-minute bell rung, stopping Bev from arguing any further.

"FIne." She snorted. "I will figure it out though, Kaspbrak. Mark my words."

He grinned and stood, helping the redhead up alongside him. The left the bathroom and headed back towards the counselors to switch out Eddie's class, before heading back to the lockers.

To Eddie's disappointment, his locker seemed to be far away from all the others, save for Stan who was just twelve down. He set his bag down and pulled out his schedule paper, memorizing the locker combination printed out at the top. He fidgeted with it for several minutes, doing his best to get it right for the future. He honestly hated combination locks. All freshmen year he'd have Bill open his locker for him because his lock seemed to be rigged constantly. He managed to get it to open a few times, before deciding that was good enough. Eddie pulled out all of the material for his afternoon classes and placed them in the neatest he could. When he finished he closed the locker door quietly and turned, nearly walking into the back of a lettermen-wearing jock.

He rolled his eyes and just walked around, completely ignoring whoever it was. The closest person to a jock he knew was Mike, and that was the farthest he'd go in all honesty. 

He strode down the hall, towards his homeroom and let out a sigh. Nerves racing, he reached for the handle and pulled. 

The bell rung behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, to clear things up a bit Eddie is 15 going 16 now, and all the others are either already 17 or 16 going 17.  
> I don't know how Maine education systems work so please bear with me, rip :,)  
> Richie doesn't know the losers whatsoever, save for Bill and Mike because they're in football together but only barely so.   
> I don't know if this should be in the 90s or modern, so feel free to drop your preference!
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this for later, all of these really mean a lot to me and I honestly love reading and responding to comments whenever I get them!


	3. Drizzling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has an interesting first day
> 
> -rip my horrible chapter titles :')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of these teachers are based on teachers I had :) They may seem a little uncharacteristic but I had fun writing them like this.   
> This chapter may be a little long, I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!

Eddie was all too thankful for his first-period class.

Sure, it was AP Language which meant it was going to be a lot of essays and papers, but the class was more or less small and the teacher seemed okay so far. Eddie picked a desk in the front row near the window and sat down graciously. There were only eight other students in so far, so hopefully, the class would be one of his calmer ones. He recognized them from the halls, but never _really_ knew them past that. The teacher was sat at his desk, scribbling something down on his clipboard, occasionally glancing up at his computer screen. He already seemed stressed and it was only the first day.

Eddie took the next few minutes of class to aimlessly look around and study the room he'd be spending 50 minutes every weekday for the next 10 months in. The teacher left the lights off so the only light shone in through the windows, making it cast a strange shade of grey-blue over everything it touched, which Eddie didn't mind. It was reassuring in a sense. All the desks were in organized, neat rows, and motivational posters hung on the walls. Eddie got bored of it immediately. He glanced outside the window to watch a raven picking at the ground devotedly.

The last few students who'd be taking the class came in after a few minutes, and the bell rung once more. 

"Okay, good morning class. I'm Mr. Pater and I'll be teaching your AP Langauge class. We're going to start by taking attendance and telling me one of your interests and one thing you hope to learn or get better at this year." The seemingly tired teacher from just a few moments ago was at the board writing his name out and flipping a few pages on his clipboard. His red-curly hair bounced with every stroke.

"Okay, let's start off Diana Barnes."

A black-haired shorter girl looked up from where she was sitting a few desks across Eddie. 

"Oh, I like ice skating and I want to get better at stronger warrants in my essays, I guess."

"That's good, I'm sure we'll go over that sometime this week as a refresher."

Eddie blocked out the rest of students as he waited for his name to be called, tapping his foot rhythmically with the ticking from the clock.

"Edward...Kaspbrak?" 

The brunet forced a smile. "You can just call me Eddie. I like classical music and I'm hoping I can get better at poetry this year."

"Nice, nice." Mr. Pater continued on with his list until eventually he finished and started handing out the syllabus.

"Okay guys, I'm going to be straight with you. This class is going to be easy to pass. I know it seems hard because it's AP, but thirty-five percent of your grade is just showing up and doing bellringers. However, it's going to be hard to keep anything higher than a 90, I don't hand A's out. Difficult, but possible. Now if you check your syllabus, I've outlined some crucial points that will affect your grade."

Eddie sighed as he received his paper, looking it over briefly.

"These are all pretty simple, show up to class on time, turn in work when its due or ask for an extension if it's needed, etc. These are all things you're going to have to do in most of your other classes anyway. All of you look pretty smart to me, so I don't think it's going to be an issue.

"Now rules. This is going to be a little different than a few of your other classes. You're high schoolers, I get it. You're going to do stupid things and make bad decisions but that's life. I'm not going to punish you over it. We've all gone through it, even me. I'm going to be a little slack when it comes to rules. I won't cover all of them today, just the most important ones.

"Rule number one: come to my class hungover and you're sitting in the front row, I'm not chancing any kids spewing chunks everywhere. If you feel it coming up run for dear life and book it to the bathroom. After last year's accident, I can't go through that. Never again."

That got a few giggles from across the room, and even Eddie had to smile. He was starting to like this teacher.

"Rule number two: Show up to class drunk or high and you have to wait it out in the bathroom or somewhere else. If you do show up better I'll give you a tardy and you can resume class."

The rest of class went by quickly like this. Mr. Pater explaining the basics of his class and occasionally cracking some corny joke. He actually ended up laughing a few times and enjoying it. His next two classes were fine too. They were definitely more full and louder, but he found he didn't hate them. He even got Bill and Stan in Trigonometry which was a relief considering they were both better at it than him. 

Finally, his fourth period rolled around, one of the classes he was more nervous about. Theatre.

Eddie crinkled his nose as soon as he opened the door. An indisputably pungent scent of weed hit him the second he entered. He wasn't as surprised when he took in the students inside. A few artsy kids who obviously belonged and several stoners. Eddie rubbed his nose and tried ignoring it as he picked a desk in the far back, away from whoever dealt it. He had to tiptoe around the desks which were cluttered across the room in messy groups. He straightened his desk, before quietly sitting down. 

Just as he got acquainted, the door slammed open making him jump. 

"Ladies and gentleman-!"

Eddie turned back towards the interruption, eyes wide in surprise.

"Shut up, Steve- now get this right?"

Eddie stared in disbelief.

"I'm standing 'ere, mindin my own business readin the funnys in the paper, yeah, and this little fella has the  _audacity_ to walk into  _me,_ the one and only Tozier _,_ all goin off to me about me owin him money, right?"

Richie Tozier is standing in front of the class, with a group of jocks all standing around him, snickering while he gives some spot-on Jersey accent. Eddie almost laughs.

"An' I'm just here like, Bobby, I ain't owe you nuthin! I paid you last week after you wen' out an busted my buddy Marios's kneecap! But he's just standin here gettin all piped up an sending me death threats. So I only got one option right? I go up to him an I say, Bobby, hurt my friend, shame on me. You hurt my family, an we have a problem. But Bobby's not havin it. So ya know what I do?"

"What?" 

"I pop him one right in the jaw! Bobby goes flying! Then suddenly-"

"Alright alright, guys, settle down and take a seat." An older man with dark hair, intense sideburns and glasses enters. 

"Okay so- Oh god, are you guys serious? I left for five minutes!" Looks like the teacher just got a whiff of it too. He rubs his temples like this has happened too many times before. Richie and his friends all sit respectively in the same cluster of desks near the front of the classroom. The teacher marches across the room and opens all the windows, despite the rain outside. One of the girls complains about the draft but the teacher just shakes his head and tells her this is what happens when students smoke pot in his room. He whips out a can of air-freshener and starts spraying the hell out of the room. 

Eddie feels his asthma spike up when he smells it, but he just tugs his scarf over his nose.

"Alright, so now that the room doesn't smell like someone just burnt down a marijuana farm we can start. I'm Mr. Steurer and no, I am not the Wolverine."

Eddie barely notices till now, but Mr. Steurer shares a striking resemblance to him. He snorts at the idea.

"I'm just going to take attendance right away and then tell you about what we'll be doing and our first big show set for homecoming.  After that, you can either join in a mini group project on reading and act out some simple lines, or you can just screw around."

He goes through the list pretty quickly, no bullshit questions like in his other classes. When he calls 'Richard' Tozier the entire group of jocks breaks into a series of whoops and hollers of Richie's name. The taller boy stands up and bows, making Eddie roll his eyes. He can get why Stan doesn't like him now.

Mr. Steurer silences them and sits up on his desk, pulling up a handbook of sorts.

"Okay, so introductions aside we can start. This year for homecoming we're going to be performing a short play at the pep assembly. This is going to be our first big project. We'll probably be starting on it in three weeks or so, maybe sooner depending on the date and how quickly we progress. I haven't picked out a play yet, I have a few in mind but I'll have to see what the school board will let pass. Any questions?"

"Yeah, are you going to pick roles or do we need to audition?" It's the same girl who complained earlier.

"Great question!" Mr. Steurer says, clapping his hands together. "For all the plays you need to audition unless we're limited cast and I'm desperate. For our first one, I'll most likely only be letting students I feel are prepared to. The cast isn't huge so it won't be a problem. Anything else?"

The classroom is quiet save for some subtly talking from the jock-group.

"Alrighty. I have some practice lines for past plays here if anyone wants to start practicing already. If not just stay at your desk and keep it down for the rest of class." Mr. Steurer stands up and goes over to his computer, already ignoring the talking that's erupted.

Eddie considers it, but he doesn't know any of these people and he doesn't really feel like trying to ask anyone. The only ones who seem to be taking up the assignment are Richie's group, and they've already annoyed him. So instead he rests his head on his arms and tries to sleep for the next 35 minutes of class. It passes by slowly, but it gives him time to think. Mostly about situations and conversations that will never happen, but he likes to imagine these things, to plan ahead even though it's probably impossible. He finds comfort in it. It's his own little thing, a safety bubble he's comfortable in and nobody else can even begin to understand it. It's Eddie's safe place. He imagines playing the perfect piece on his cello at home, without worry of his mother waking up or hitting a note wrong. He imagines the perfect date and graduating with honors, and a girl's night out with Bev. Good things.

* * *

 

 

When the bell does ring, signaling the end of class, Eddie's just barely started falling asleep. He jumps at it and has to rub the drowsiness away from his eyes. Everyone is shoving past each other to get out of class, and Tozier was reciting Shakespeare now. Eddie waited for them to leave, before smiling at the teacher before he exits.

The second Eddie is in the halls, he speedwalks to the cafeteria (which is on the other side of the school). Someone's shoulder makes it into his face, making him glare at them as he walks past. He doesn't bother getting in line for shitty school food, and instead just scouts out one of the others. He has to tippy-toe for a second, but he eventually catches sight of Stan and Beverly sitting in a booth near a window. He makes his way over, dodging a large group of freshmen (most upperclassmen eat off campus, so it's usually full of them) and waves when Stan spots him. Stan softly smiles and beckons him over.

The second Eddie is seated he shrugs off his jacket and the scarf he had tightly wound around his neck. The rain outside has slowed down to a drizzle, and the school heaters seem to finally be kicking in.

"What, are you not eating Eddie?" Bev teases with a knowing look.

He just rolls his eyes and unzips his bag to pull out a Tupperware of fresh fruit, mostly strawberries, and raspberries. Stan laughs.

"Going fruitarian now?"

"Oh shut up, Stan. I can't have my meals specially made by the school unlike someone here."

"It's because I'm kosher-"

"Yeah, yeah." 

Beverly snorts from her salad. "Eddie's got a point. Only thing I find edible here is...this." She gestures down at her plate piled with lettuce, tomatoes, and carrot shavings. 

Stan just shrugs. "If you dislike it that much just go Jewish."

Eddie laughs at that. "Going Jewish to get out of shitty school lunches? And best idea of the year award goes to..."

Stan kicks him from under the table, but he's smiling.

"Hey guys," Bill greets, joining them with Ben and Mike behind him. Stan moves over so Bill and Ben can sit down, while Mike moves in beside Eddie. Eddie crinkles his nose at the trays full of the cook's attempts at sloppy joe's but he doesn't say anything. The messiness of it is discomforting, and by the looks of it, Stan is feeling it too as he side-eyes Bill's tray.

"So how were your guys' classes then?" The brunet asks, trying to pull Stan away from it. 

Bill shrugs. "They were alright. Oh, except for trig, but you guys know that. I'm excited about my writing class, but it's not until 7th period." 

Mike chuckles from where he's sitting. "My horticulture teacher showed up hungover so we just messed around that whole class while she dozed off."

Beverly laughs. "Damn, I should've gotten that class. Mine were all exceptionally boring. I'm only excited for AP chem and Culinary Arts." Eddie smiles at her through a mouthful of blackberry. 

"Mine sucked too." Ben pipes up from his fries.

Stan shakes his head. "I don't know how anyone could be excited about an AP class."

"Uh, blowing stuff up, Stanley. I got Mr. Wyles, I hear he's really chill."

Ben nods immediately. "Hell yeah, he is. Last year he introduced us to his class by lighting the handbook on fire."

Beverly fist pumps. "Nice! Sounds like my kind of teacher."

"So," Stanley says, drawing it out as he stretches his arm. "How about you Eddie? I mean, with Theatre and all."

Eddie just shrugs. "It was alright I guess. It reeked like pot in there when I came in, it's all jocks and stoners in there. The teacher didn't even care, he seemed used to it. He just told us about a play we're going to do for homecoming, then let us do whatever we wanted...oh, oh, but guess who of all people was there."

"Who?" Stan asks, shifting.

"Richie-fucking-Tozier. He came in doing some shit-Jersey impression and then was rehearsing Hamlet the rest of class. He's not all that bad, his group is just way too... _much_ I guess."

Beverly makes a weird expression, but she looks away after a second. Stan snorts. "It only gets worse, my friend. Sorry, you have him a whole semester, that really sucks."

Eddie hums. "I guess. Just as long as he doesn't try pulling me into it I'm fine."

"You'll be singing a different tune after a week, I bet."

"Maybe."

"Hey guys, I think I just saw Terri, I'm going to go throw and try catching up to her. I'll be back in a few minutes." The boys all just nod at Beverly and move out so she can leave. Eddie watches Beverly leave the cafeteria, her shoulder-length curls bouncing behind her. Ben yawns as he slides back in next to Eddie.

They break into their own conversations after a minute, Bill and Mike trying to convince Ben to join football (who keeps declining because his heart is in basketball) and going on about P.E. Stan and Eddie start discussing making a study group for their World History class, even if they have it for different periods. So far they have themselves, Mike, Hollis Moore, and possibly Peter Gordon- even though the kid's annoying as hell he's somewhat smart. Either him or this Alistair transfer student he seems to have a hand for history. They get into a small dispute but get over it pretty quickly, just because they're Stan and Eddie.

After they quiet down, Mike asks if they'd like to go outside now that the rain has gone down. Eddie immediately says yes, he feels too stuffy in here. 

The group leaves the cafeteria and make their way through the halls. They leave through the side of the school, staying beside the building where the roof provides cover from the sprinkling above. Stan convinces them to run out towards the trees in the schoolyard with benches around them, saying they'll probably still be dry or damp at best. Eddie just runs for it, not bothering to pull his hood up like the others. The rain feels good on his skin, he thinks he might be coming down with something because his skin feels hot to the touch. 

They sit below one of the bigger maple trees, Stan being right about the benches. It's nice out now. Sure, it's not Eddie's favorite season, (allergies and all) but he does miss the summer warmth when it starts turning the cold. It's not sunny today because of the thunderstorm, but at least the plants and trees are all in their prime. The trees are still rich with thick green leaves, and they'll stay like that until around early-mid October. There is a lot more bloom this year, probably because this mud season's frost wasn't as harsh. He's glad for it because his neighbor's apricot and plum trees were overflowing, so they let him come over and take as much as he wanted. Besides that and being eye-candy, he doesn't care much for spring or summer. It's a nice break from school and the harsh Maine cold, but that's really it.

Stan suddenly taps the brunet's shoulder excitedly, gesturing up at a tree a few yards away. "Eddie, look!" he whispers, probably too worried about scaring the bird away even though he's far away from it. 

Eddie follows his gaze and notices a bright blue bird, perched in a branch. It somewhat blends in with the foliage but manages to stand out at the same time. It tilts its head, studying something interesting on its branch. 

"Bluejay," Stan whispers, sounding overjoyed. "I think he's hunting."

"He?"

"Probably. It's a bit on the bigger side, meaning it's most likely a male, but it's also hunting which means a female may be nesting somewhere nearby and he's bringing her food."

Eddie nods, it makes sense.

They watch the bird for a few more moments before it suddenly flaps its wings and takes off. They both turn to see Beverly running for them from under the other tree, shielding her head with her arms. Stan tenses a little but smiles at her anyway.

"Hey Bev," he calls, and she waves as she nears them, slightly out of breath. 

"Okay, so I didn't find Terri, but I did run into one of the cheerleaders passing out cheer try-outs in the hall," Beverly breathed out, sitting down next to stan.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And they want more boys to join this year, so we can participate in a co-op tournament this year. I didn't sign you guys up or anything, but I told her I'd ask around."

Stan bit his lip nervously, looking down. "I don't know Bev, sports aren't really my thing."

"Cheer is hardly a sport. Think of it like this: just lifting and throwing chicks while hanging out with your best two buds, me and Eddie for two hours. It's a climb up the social ladder and uh...you'll get fit?" Beverly shrugged it off with a smile.

Stan snorted and Eddie snickered. "That's one way to put it, Bev."

" _Aaaaand_ it gives you the chance to meet some really nice, pretty, future-wife candidates."

Stan shifted. "I really don't know, I'd have to think about it. Some of those girls are really bitchy, and whose to say I'll even make it on the team? I'm as stiff as a board."

Eddie murmured in agreement.

The redhead shook her head and sighed. "If you're a guy there's a 90% chance they'll take you, they really need guys. And hell, we can meet up after school a few times to practice. I'll show you guys the ropes and what they'll be expecting. As for the bitchy girls, that's half the fun." She winked at Eddie, making him scoff and playfully punch her shoulder.

Stan groaned, rubbing his temples. "I swear you're going to be the death of me, Bev. Fine, but you're paying for dinner."

Beverly grinned and grasped his knee, making the taller boy jump. "I knew I could count on you, Stan!"

The bell rung, signaling the end of lunch. 

Bill, Mike, and Ben split off from them as they re-entered the school, all heading to different classes in the other direction. Beverly and Eddie walked Stan to his English class, waving at him as they turned back down the hall and began walking to Culinary Arts. The class was in the semi-abandoned art hall, so luckily it would be safe from the yells and thuds that usually sounded out from other classes through the much-too thin walls.

"So Eddie, are you going to do it?" Beverly questioned, pulling a brush out to quickly run through her hair.

"What?" He responded, pretending to be oblivious. He didn't really want to talk about this now, not yet. His head was starting to hurt and he still felt a little flushed. Just his luck he gets sick the first day of school.

"Cheer." She said it blatantly, still brushing her hair out.

"I don't know, I'll think about it. I might need to ask my mom first."

Beverly dismissed it immediately. "We both know that's not true Eddie. Look, if you don't want to I won't make you but would you at least consider?"

Eddie gave her a gentle smile. "Anything for you, Bev." As much as he disliked the idea, he wouldn't let her down like this.

The redhead gave him a tight side-hug, and together they walked into class.

* * *

 

By the time school ended, Eddie was exhausted. He usually wouldn't be this tired after a school day, but his head has been dully ringing for the past two hours and he's felt numb since lunch. He isn't flustered anymore, but he feels all ache-y, kind of like how you'd feel as a kid after coming in from a day of playing out in the snow. 

The Culinary Arts class turns out to be more fun than he expected. The teacher, Ms. Willoughby is a short stocky woman with rosy cheeks and a constant preppy attitude. She tells them they'll be cooking on Wednesdays and baking on Fridays. The rest of the days will be spent researching recipes, studying tastes and palates,  foods and their development and impact on culture, things like that. It could be a stress-reliever, really. He needed to listen to Bev more often.

The AP chemistry class with Bev (again) was certainly...interesting, to say the least. Mr. Wyles blew up a piece of sodium and told them they'd learn how to make bigger explosions by the end of the first nine weeks. He even took down a list of things they wanted to blow up. Richie Tozier's suggestion of a baby got denied.

By the end of it though, Eddie was struggling to keep his eyes open he was so tired. He thought Beverly would be annoyed but she understood. She said she'd reschedule the group's date out tonight for tomorrow, Stan had a rough first day and the boys had practice today anyway. He thanked her religiously for that.

After they bid the boys farewell and got in Beverly's convertible, Eddie passed out the entire ride to his house, only waking up when Beverly shook him awake when they got there. He thanked her again and waved her off. 

Eddie more or less staggered inside, slinging his backpack onto the staircase railing. He could hear his mother asleep in the living room, softly snoring. That was good. He waltzed into the kitchen feeling dazed, and stirred and drank an Emergen-C, taking an ibuprofen and a Benedryl alongside it just in case. He really didn't want to be sick the first week of school. He despised being sick in general, it was the lowest feeling for him. It probably got to him from helping that Martha lady out in the rain earlier, not that he regretted it.

As soon as he finished his drink, he walked out of the kitchen, feeling a little less out of it. He reached out for the railing, only to be interrupted by his mother's voice.

"Eddie? Oh, Eddie is that you, dear?" 

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling regret. She probably woke up from the clinking of his glass and the cupboard shutting, he should have remembered to be quieter. 

"Eddie, I know you're up. Come here, honey."

"Yes, mommy." Eddie dragged his feet to the living room. The tv was still on, some episode of a comedy-sketch show still playing. 

His mother was splayed out on the couch, blanket pulled over her large body. She struggled to lean over and reach for her glasses on the coffee table, prompting him to walk over and hand them to her. She squinted as she pushed them onto her face, smiling when she saw Eddie's face.

"Oh my Eddie-bear, how was your first day of school?"

"It was good," he said shrugging. "I'm in theatre and French now. I also had debate but I switched it out for Culinary Arts because I don't like the kids in there."

"They probably would have been too rough with you, you can be so fragile." She frowned, going on. "I don't know about that Culinary Arts class though. Cooking can be so messy, whose to say all the students in there even wash the equipment and ingredients?"

Eddie shook his head quickly, kneeling down beside her. "No, no, it's good I promise. I'm always extra careful and besides, Stan is my partner in there. You know he'll probably go over everything in there at least twice ."

At that Sonia smiled, nodding. "Stan is a good boy, I've always liked him. Nice parents and he's always been kind to you. Not like that Beverly girl, you promise me you'll be careful with her, alright?"

"I promise." He beamed at his mother and she beamed back, before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. 

Eddie stood up to leave, but felt his mother hold onto his hand.

"Oh honey, you're not going to watch the Haywire with me?"

Eddie offered his most sympathetic smile and slouched slightly.

"I'd love to mom, but I'm really tired. There was a big prep-quiz in history and I'm exhausted after it."

She looked disappointed but she let it go anyway.

"Alright dear, just make sure you shower tomorrow morning when you wake up, or later tonight if you're still up okay?"

He nodded and turned back to the stairs, ascending even as he felt her eyes follow him up. 

The second Eddie reached his bed he practically faceplanted onto it. He lazily kicked his shoes off and shimmied his coat off, pushing it to the floor. He pulled the covers over his numb body and sighed heavily. A strange yet gentle pins and needles sensation flooded his skin but he was too tired to care at this point. He stared out the window in front of his bed for a few seconds, but the light felt too bright so he rolled over to stare at the wallpaper instead. He counted the number of golden stripes in his field of vision once, then twice, then three times, until he felt sleep dawning on him and his eyelids grow heavy. He blinked it away at first but gave in to the comforting tugs of sleep.

That night Eddie dreamt about ravens and bluejays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, I decided I'd go with 90's setting, just because it's easier to work with and I like the aesthetic and the way it'll help shape the story.   
> If you're wondering about what the update schedule is it's going to be every 2-4 days? I'm really not sure, I don't like setting schedules because it starts feeling like a chore after a while. I'll do my best no matter. A lot of my problems in the past was that I tried jugging several fics all at once, and that meant I was forcing myself to write 3,000 words a night which kind of sucked? I'm making this fic my priority now though, so I can avoid that and stay motivated to finish this! :D
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys so so much for all the support!! All of your comments really warmed my heart and I'm glad people are liking how this story has started! Feel free to leave your kudos or comments and bookmark this if you want to save it for later. Comments mean a whole lot to me, and I respond to all the comments I get if I can, whether it's compliments, criticism, questions, etc.
> 
> Have a great day and thank you again for reading this! :)


	4. Bleak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's got a small cough and is subtly growing more annoyed with a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter took so long to come out!! My little sister who lives with me came down with pneumonia which was pretty scary. She's getting better now though, so my friend is helping me take care of her.  
> Thanks for all the patience!!!

Eddie groaned softly, pushing a hand up his temple. His brain felt like it was turning into mush it hurt so bad. He sniffled and did his best to stay concentrated on the worksheet in front of him. He absolutely loathed trig. It felt pointless to learn something he'd probably forget the second he stepped out of high school. It wasn't too hard for him and he always managed to get A's in his math classes before, but he didn't want to go into it in the future. It just wasn't for him. Unlike with Stan, who was literally making it his life-objective to get a stable up-there job in math or something like that. Eddie just shook his head, he didn't get how a person could want that.

Several people including the mentioned blond had already finished and were talking quietly back and forth to each other. Bill, who was sitting at the desk across from him, was staring at his paper like it was the most complex thing in the world.

Eddie turned back to his own paper and went over the question several more times. He was this close to finishing, but the question just wasn't computing for him. He had to read it a dozen more times until he finally got it and could work it out. He lazily scribbled his work and answer out, and wrote his name down. He stood up a little too quickly, making his head spin. Eddie just pushed past it and made his way over to Mrs. Reed's desk, pushing his paper over. She looked up from her magazine and nodded before turning back to it and flipping a page.

The brunet collapsed on his desk, groaning a second time. Stan turned around from where he sat and gave Eddie a questioning look. "You okay, Eddie? You're looking a little pale."

"I'm fine." Eddie snapped without realizing it. Stan rose an eyebrow. He immediately shook his head, pinching his eyes together. "God, sorry Stan. I'm just feeling horrible. Just my luck I get sick the first week of school. This sucks."

Stan offered a reassuring smile. "It's fine. At least it's Friday, right?"

Eddie shrugs. "I guess. I don't know if that's good or not, though. The only reason my mom hasn't found out yet is that I'm gone almost all day and when I get home I'm too tired to stay downstairs with her. If she sees that I'm sick she'll probably drive me out to the doctors and have them give put me on every med they can."

"If it helps at all you can come hang out at my house," Stan offered. "My parents wouldn't mind, they love you."

"I don't know..." Eddie looks off, resting his chin in his hand. "I don't want to get you sick."

Behind them, the teacher sets her magazine down and walks out of the classroom, saying she'll be back in a few minutes but no one really listens.

"I guess. Have you visited the school nurse yet?" Stan asks, now sitting fully turned towards him.

"Yeah," Eddie says, brows lowering. "They told me to take some Benedryl and stay home. Like I'm not already doing that, or going to anyway."

"Goddamnit!" Bill hisses, slamming a hand down on the table and grabbing both of their attention. "What the hell does this even mean?"

Stan snickers and turns toward the brunet. Bill looks like his head is going to explode as he glares down at the worksheet.

"Having some trouble?" Stan teases with a knowing look.

"Yeah," Bill nods, threading a hand through his messing hair.

Stan looks up to make sure the teacher is still gone before he leans over to look at Bill's paper.

"Alright, so we know this side is 12m and that it's adjacent to angle B. The trig ratio we're needing is going to be adjacent and opposite then. So that would be...?"

"Tangent?" Bill tries.

"Right." Stan nods."So our trig ratio is tan B equals opposite over adjacent. We then can substitute in the angle and side we know. Move 12 to the other side by multiplying both sides. Use a calculator to find your answer and round to the nearest tenth."

Bill takes a minute to write it all out and enter it into the calculator. "So 5.5?"

"Yes. Now you could use the Pythagorean Theorem to find C, but I find that to be less reliable so we're just going to repeat what we just did. We'll use angle B again, and 12m is our adjacent and c will be our hypotenuse. So that means our trig ratio is...?"

"Cosine." Bill looks calmer now.

"So our trig ratio is now cos B equals adjacent over hypotenuse. Substitute in the angle and side, and it's going to be cos 25 equals 12 over c. Multiply both sides by c and then divide into both sides by cos 25. Now use a calculator to solve for c."

"13.2."

"Right, you're doing great, Bill. So next problem..."

Eddie realizes he got the problem wrong and briefly considers getting his paper and fixing it. He gives up on the idea because his body doesn't feel like moving right now. He'll get it next time.

Eddie turns around from what Stan and Bill are doing and looks out the window instead. It's on the other side of the classroom so he can't make out anything particularly interesting. It's sunny outside, probably in the high 60's. It's mostly quiet save for the occasional student or staff member walking past and the buzzing of bees at the meadowsweets growing outside the window. It's so quiet Eddie swears he can hear the pulsing in his head from this migraine. All he can do is sit here and wait for class to be over, but then he has Theatre and the rest of the school day. He groans again and buries his head in his sleeves.

Eventually, the bell does ring and Eddie's somewhat thankful. Bill heads for the gym and Stan walks Eddie to his class before parting ways.

Eddie's already annoyed when he steps into class. Richie is doing one of his weird impressions, and as good as it is he's just way too loud, especially today. It's bad enough having him in two classes and having a locker a few down from him. Richie just cannot seem to shut up for the life of him.

Eddie takes his seat on the far side of the room, wanting to be as far away from whatever they're doing as he can. Thank God it doesn't reek of pot today. Mr. Steurer just nods at him as he passes, marking him down on the attendance sheet. The second he sits down he's laying his head down on his crossing forearms, wishing he wasn't here. He swears he's going to snap any minute now.

The bell rings, starting class, Mr. Steurer closes the door behind the last student and takes attendance again just in case someone tried sneaking out. He barely has the motivation to raise his arm when his name is called. After roll call, he announces that the choir is going to run a practice in the hall and that he'll be taking them out of class for that in a few minutes.

Mr. Steurer silences Richie's group before he leaves but after a few minutes, they begin starting up again.

Richie's not acting this time, in fact, he's listening on to one of the others go off about something. That's a first.

"-you know, that one kid, the choir one." One of the shorter ones with short, dark hair is going off.

"Does he have blonde hair?"

"Yeah, and it's long."

"I think you're talking about Adrian. He's in my History class."

"Whatever. Anyways, apparently he asked Stevens out this summer. Got totally rejected."

"Well of course he did, Babs always-"

"Not Barbara, her brother Michael."

Eddie doesn't mean to perk up the way he does. The conversation sparks an interest in him, and he can't help but listen in to them. He doesn't pay attention to the pair of eyes on him as he tries to subtly stare at his desk while listening.

"Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, he even told me. They were hanging out and he tried kissing him or something. Michael told him off and pushed him away."

"So Adrian's a queer?"

"Yeah, that's what I heard. Fucking gross, he's in cheer too. Probably joined so he could watch Stevens stretch for games."

"Ha, probably...hey, Richie, you listening?"

Eddie glances over for a second, and immediately tenses. Richie is staring directly at him, dark eyes burning into his scalp. He only makes eye contact for a second before he looks away.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. He's from New York, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I've heard. Maybe he picked up AIDs or something there."

"Maybe."

Eddie looks back after a moment when the group has already changed subjects. To his relief, Richie's back to making jokes and has his side turned towards him. Eddie knows it shouldn't be a big deal, but Richie's staring is creepy. He's not superstitious at all but Richie gives him bad vibes. He doesn't think he likes him.

Mr. Steurer eventually returns, ushering them all into the hallway. The choir is all gathered in a group towards the center, most of them going over what Eddie guesses are lyrics or something. A few other classes are out too, and Eddie waves at Beverly across the hall. She waves back, grinning wide and looks back at her teacher. Mrs. Whitings is off in the front talking to Mrs. Reeds, so Beverly strides over as discreetly as possible.

"Hey, Eddie," She whispers not at all quietly.

"Hey Bev," He says back, not even bothering to keep it quiet.

"So how's your Theatre class so far?"

"Horrible. I think I'm going to switch out of it on Monday."

Beverly raises her eyebrows. "Really? That bad, huh."

"Believe me, it's the worst. The teacher is really nice and all but the students are bad. I don't talk to half of them, and the other half are all asshole jocks I wouldn't even bother interacting with. And then that goddamn Tozier kid. He's possibly one of the most annoying people I've met. He's constantly doing some impression or making sex jokes and the rest of them actually find it funny."

Beverly laughs at that, making Eddie frown.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. He just hasn't changed I guess."

Now Eddie is confused. "What do you mean?"

"He was like that in middle school too. To be fair it was mostly jokes about getting with people's moms or on how big his dick supposedly was."

"Hold up," Eddie says, shifting a little under his coat. "He went to middle school here? And you knew him?"

Beverly nods, pushing her hair out of her face. "Oh yeah. I think it was the end of 7th grade, before I knew you guys, that I first started talking to him. I got detention for 'trashing' the bathroom after some girls and I got in a fight, and he talked back to a teacher so we were in detention together. He was different back then...really shy, closeted I guess. Hell, he even had these big lens glasses that made his eyes look weird. He seemed like such a fragile kid until we started talking more and I found out he was really...cynical and loud I guess. We even tried cigarettes for the first time together and he coughed so hard he puked. Then in 8th grade, we'd hang out behind the school for lunch and smoke together."

"And then?" Eddie asks, caught up in Bev's story.

Beverly just shrugs. "We grew apart I guess. He started hanging out with some sketchy people a few months later and by the end of the school year, we were barely talking. High school came and he changed, became a social butterfly and then we just didn't see each other anymore. It's a little sad but you know how it is. High school changes people and you can't really control it."

Eddie nodded, not really knowing what to say now. So he just shook his head. "I can't see it."

"See what?"

"Him being introverted at all. He's such a....he's weird. I don't know."

Beverly snorts. "Believe me, weird isn't even the beginning of it. Can you imagine him with giant nerd glasses either?"

Eddie laughs at that. "Fair point. But it's still hard. I caught him staring at me in class today. Like, death-staring me."

"Oh really?" The redhead raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it was-"

Eddie's interrupted by synchronized voices rising up from the other end of the hall. Eddie turns back to finish telling Beverly, but to his annoyance, another girl, probably one of Beverly's friends from that class, is urgently beckoning her over. Beverly throws Eddie an apologetic look before she starts walking out towards the girl.

Eddie sighs. He's alone again. He stands there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. He's not that interested in the choir or the performance in all honesty (it's not what he was expecting, it feels like opera music in a way), but at the same time, he probably wouldn't be able to sneak out without a teacher seeing him and saying something. He stands there for another moment until he suddenly recognizes something and comes to a realization. Without a second thought, Eddie's striding to the front of the gathered students, just so he can look past the crowd and see something. Eddie stills and his heart skips a beat.

Him.

More specifically, Adrian Waller. The blond boy in question is in the middle of the choir group. He's one of the leading singers for this piece. Eddie stares at him for a minute before he realizes what he's doing and snaps back. He looks to the side to stop himself from feeling creepy. It would suck if he was caught and called out on it. He internally argues with himself over  _why_ and why caring is so important to him.

The song draws to an end, and Mr. Steurer ushers the male performers to the side so the other can perform an all-female piece. All the boys either sit down or lean against the wall to wait, and there Adrian is, standing and thumbing through several sheets. He glances up for a moment, catching Eddie's gaze. Adrian smiles and mouths a quick greeting at Eddie. The brunet smiles back nervously and waves. The blond throws him a quick peace-sign and goes back to his papers.

Eddie could scream. He's way too happy about this. For a moment he forgets that he's trying to get over a cold, he just feels too happy. It's a fuzzy, warm feeling that takes over his whole body. He has to hold back from grinning ear-to-ear, it's all too much. He loves this feeling because for a moment everything else feels irrelevant and he's caught on the thought of it. It's amazing because  _Adrian Waller just smiled at him_ and that means everything. It's too perfect.

So, of course, someone has to ruin it.

"Hey, isn't that Adrian?" He recognizes the short-haired guy from earlier, his name might be Joshua if Eddie remembers it right.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Goddamn, he even sings like a fairy." This time it's Richie. Several people snicker and start adding on. Eddie pauses for a moment at that but comes back to reality. Of course, _he_ makes that comment, he always has  _something_ to say. Eddie considers turning around and telling them to be quiet, but he realizes he's making too much out of it. He doesn't know why he expects differently, he's been hearing this for years. Maybe it's because of who it's about.

Eddie turns to scan through the crowd for Beverly before he spots her red curls in the back. He walks around Richie's group, questioning why they were so close to him in the first place. He starts pushing past people (frequently apologizing) as he nears Bev. When she sees him, she smiles and gestures him over.

Eddie tries to smile back.

Beverly reads him too easily. 

"What's up Eddie?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

He just shrugs and moves to stand by her side. "I don't know. I just went up because I thought I recognized someone I kind of know."

"And did you?"

Eddie almost tells her but he hesitates. She catches it right away but doesn't push.

"Later, promise?"

Eddie nods.

Beverly and Eddie stay talking for the rest of the performance, which is only another 10 minutes or so. Mr. Steurer thanks everyone for coming and the halls began to disperse. 

"Hey Eddie, want to go off campus for lunch today?"

"What, now?"

"Sure, I'll just hang out with you in your class. We only have 15 more minutes till lunch, and Mrs. Whiting's class is boring as hell anyways. Fuck English." Beverly grinned, mock-throwing a middle finger in her classes direction.

Eddie laughed at that, shaking his head. "If you say so, Bev. He probably won't have a problem with it, but I bet your class is ten times better."

Eddie led the way in, holding the door open for Beverly. He had to push through several groups of desks to make way, but after a moment he found his seat. Beverly sat down in a desk beside him, subtly pushing it closer. The scraping sound of it sounded like a gunshot in Eddie's sickly state, but he just shook it out of his head and went for a drink of his tea. Beverly made a face and sighed.

"I don't know how you do it K-man," she shifted in her seat, crinkling her nose slightly. "Tea is nasty, it's literally pompous water."

Eddie rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth as he set his thermos down. "Oh, whatever. I like it, and besides, I need it for my throat. Chamomile, lemon, and honey."

"Sounds pretty nasty to me."

Eddie softly punched Beverly's shoulder, sniffling. "Whatever, you just have bad taste."

The blue-eyed girl just gave him a teasing smile and turned back around to stare ahead. The brunet followed suit, to see Richie unsurprisingly doing another act. Probably Mercutio's death scene by the sound of it. 

As the dark-haired teen dramatically fell to the floor clutching his heart, he paused for a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beverly smile. Richie seemed to smile back briefly before he let his head loll over and went back to 'dying'.

"Are you going to start talking to him again?" Eddie realized he sounded snarky the moment it came out of his mouth. He inwardly cringed, making Bev laugh as she turned to see him.

 "Maybe. I don't know, it depends."

"On?"

"I have no idea." The redhead shrugged and crossed her legs. "Several things, I guess. The group, for one thing. You know how Stan and Bill feel about him. And...Richie. He was doing a lot of stupid shit freshman year. If he's still...there...I'll probably just keep to occasionally nodding at him in the hall."

Eddie wanted to push her and ask about everything, but he decided not to. Why should he care? Richie had proven to be somewhat of an asshole so far, it was probably in his better interest to stay away. He was obnoxious and loud and had the worst type of humor. He should hate him.

They ended up talking about homecoming and making plans to do something big for it for the remainder of class. Once the bell rang they exited together and went around to get all the others. They all managed to fit in Beverly's car (Eddie having to sit on the floor) and had a brief argument over where to eat. Thye eventually came to pick a pizzeria place that had just opened a few minutes away from the school.

 They argued again when they got inside (Bill going off on bacon being the best topping) but they ended up picking two large pepperonis. Conversation stirred between the group, inconsistently switching every few moments.

"Oh guys, are you going to that party at that Brad football-player's place?"

Eddie perked up slightly, a little curious. "There's a party?"

Bill nodded. "Yeah, his dad is supposedly out hunting up near Bangor so he's throwing a party."

"If you can even call it that." Stan cut in.

The taller brunet shrugged. "I might go, but I don't want to be the only one going. Are you guys?"

Mike nodded his head quietly, glancing over at them. "Micheal wants me to be there, and if you are I might as well." Micheal was a sophomore girl Mike had been recently talking with since last February. At this point, everyone was just waiting for him to ask her out.

Stan shook his head. "I don't do parties. After Criss spiked the punch 8th-grade prom even the smell of alcohol makes me sick. You Eddie?"

"Sick."

"Oh right."

Ben shrugged. "Probably not. Gotta help my aunt out this weekend. I'll see though."

"I'm going," Beverly spoke up, returning from the bathroom. "One of the girls from practice suggested it and I have nothing better to do anyways. I was going to ask if Eddie could come pick us up afterward if he's feeling up to it." She gave him that one mischevious look that usually meant she was coming back drunk. Eddie stifled a laugh as he remembered the last time he had to.

"Sure, I guess. You owe me though."

"Definitely." She grinned at him and at that Bill laughed, blue eyes twinkling.

"Guess it's a date then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter sucks. Admittedly I didn't put a lot of effort in this one because I'm pushing towards the next chapter, that's when things are going to get interesting-
> 
> Anyways, thank you guys for reading, your support honestly means a lot to me. Feel free to leave a comment, I respond to every comment if I can! I'll see you guys next chapter!


	5. Repose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie simultaneously feel like shit at a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry for that long hiatus, oops  
> I'm back though!!

Eddie groaned.

He'd rolled over several times now, every position feeling uneasy on his numb body. Every wrinkle in his sheet seemed to stick out like a rock to him, and the pins-and-needles sensations he'd been having went on and off with little warning. That coupled with his hot, sore throat only added to the amount of 'shit' (if he'd ever described it) he was feeling. He wasn't running a fever or anything too serious, but he felt the lowest of the low. Eddie despised being sick with a passion. It was the weekend luckily, but whenever he got sick around school he dreaded the days he'd have to stay home, being coddled and religiously cared for by his mother. She hadn't caught onto his being sick yet, and he wasn't going to let her now. Every time he heard her heavy steps up the stairs he would pretend to be busy on an essay- he'd already finished it earlier but it was a good excuse nonetheless.

At this point, he was just waiting for Beverly's call. He had almost given up on it, momentarily bitter over the fact he still had to go pick her and the others off. He reasoned she could find her way home by herself, or hitch a ride with someone else there. He couldn't sleep, sure, but he felt lifeless and all it would take was a Benadryl or two and he'd pass out. After a moment he shook the thoughts from his head, he'd made a promise and besides, he had nothing better to do besides sitting in his own sick. If he didn't go Beverly would never let him hear the end of it.

What was the worst that could happen?

So there Eddie was, curled up in fetal position, clutching a boxy Mobira Cityman 900 to his chest -a gift from his uncle Will in New York- waiting for the call that would signal him to leave. His pager had broken a few weeks back (something that angered Beverly, no more spamming 'boobies' in numbers to Eddie at 11 P.M.) and he couldn't be bothered to get it fixed or afford a new one. The phone downstairs was too loud, his mother would wake up in a second. In the end, he had ended up rummaging through a box of old electronics in the attic until it finally came up.

Eddie rolled over onto his back, stretching a hand up and grasping at nothing. He examined the way his bones flexed under the skin, experimentally tracing one with a finger as he flexed it. He continued messing around with his hands, until the large beeping from the phone alerted him, making him jump and the heavy device roll off of his chest and onto his lap.

He scrambled to grasp the weight, immediately hitting the call button and pulling it to his ear.

"Bev? Is that you?" He tried, whispering in a curious tone. He kept his voice low, somewhat worried Sonia might have heard the ringing in the other room.

It was silent for a few moments, and he almost ended the call out of disappointment in it not working. Static broke through before an audible voice became clear.

"-ddie? It's Beverly, you dork. Who else would it be?" Her voice was still a little fuzzy, but he could hear the amusement in it. In the background, someone yelled and pop music could be heard blaring.

"Sorry, I thought grandpa Joseph might be calling from the grave."

"Oh shush. How did you get that thing to work anyway? Or even afford one for that matter? Don't these things run for a couple grand?"

Eddie hummed lightly, somewhat struggling to hear her. "I think so? It was a gift from my uncle on my mom's side- the one I don't talk to or ever see. It was still in its box upstairs with the manual and everything. I'm guessing my mom took one look at it and decided it was evil. You know how she is."

"Mmm-hmm. Nerd." 

"Hey, don't you have one?"

"Nah, my aunt has the one but I prefer sending you secretive codes over my beeper."

Eddie rolled his eyes, grinning. "Whatever, are you ready or what?"

Beverly giggled that weird, very tipsy laugh, the first indication of her activities that night.

"Actually, Eddie....we were _wondering_ if you wanted to hang out..." Eddie went to protest but her sharp, cheery voice drowned him out. "I know you're sick er whatever, but it's only a few minutes, I promise...like 15 minutes.  _And_ my aunt always claims brandy helps with her colds."

Eddie harumphed, not believing any of it.

"I don't know, Bev. If I come home tipsy with you hollering and stumbling around my mom will kill me. Literally."

"Goddddd, Eddie. You need to stop worrying about your mom so much, maybe this will be good for you. You can leave her a note or something, right? Saying you need to study at Stan's or Bill's and that you're staying the night. If you need to you can sleep over at my place and I'll bring you back by morning, I promise."

Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. 

"Bev...."

"Pleeeeaaassee, Eddie? I'll you something..."

"Fine." The brunette gave in, forcing himself to stand up with a sigh of irritation.

"Thank you, so so much, K-man. I'll see you here in a few minutes then?"

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta go now, this thing's going to die in a minute." He already was reaching for his shoes, figuring out what to write on the note he' have to leave.

"Okay, bye!" Her cheery voice cut off as the call ended. Eddie tossed it onto his bed, turning back to finish tieing his shoes. 

He headed down the stairs, sure to stay as quiet as he could. He edged along the wall and on the edges of the stair steps, as to keep the old, polished boards from creaking and giving him away. It was already dark downstairs, the only light coming from the moonlight illuminating through the window and the glow of the TV, still on as his mother dozed off. Eddie didn't bother turning on the lights, he eyeballed the coatrack until he found his beige trenchcoat. He carefully pulled it from the other coats and hoodies and slipped it on, struggling momentarily to button it.

He turned to leave, but last second ran back as he remembered the note. He tore out a scrap paper from a school notebook and quickly scribbled a messy message about how Bill needed his help ASAP for an assignment he'd forgotten and that he'd be back by morning. He knew she'd be annoyed by it, but not horribly. She'd grown a little more lenient over the years, not nearly as much as Bev's aunt, but at least he wouldn't be grounded. 

He stuck it in the medicine cabinet, next to her morning pills, and silently went to turn off the television and gave Sonia a quick kiss on the forehead.

He carefully locked and closed the door behind him, and fished the car keys from his pockets, dangling and twisting them between his fingers. He stepped in and pushed the keys in the ignition, waiting for it to start up. The car wasn't necessarily bad, but it was ancient and definitely showed it. From what he knew, his dad used all his savings on it when his mom was only 2 months into her pregnancy with Eddie, so they'd have a way to get around for her appointments. The car was at least 16+ years old then, twice the age of how long most cars lasted from what he knew. He didn't really know cars so he had no clue as to what it was, but it was already rusting in several places and looked like one of those century-old cars rotting in abandoned yards. Yes, it still worked, but no way would he take it often. Part of the reason they didn't just scrap it and buy a new one was that of the connection it held to his late father. Eddie just couldn't.

The ignition finally gave in, and with a slow rumble, Eddie pulled out of the yard and took off down the road. He vaguely remembered where Brian lived. That part of town, anyway. He figured he'd just eye around for flashing lights or loud music. He drove around through the quiet streets of uptown Derry for a few minutes, humming the melody of a song softly to himself, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he searched. There weren't too many people out, especially at this hour. Mostly teens hanging out in groups (a few being notably sketchier than the rest), and the occasional couple coming back from a late night at the bar. He saw a homeless woman dash across the road in front of him, making him slam on his brakes almost violently.

"Jesus!" He hissed to himself, watching the man pass. He waited for the light to change again, before speeding off, heart still beating a little faster. He briefly wondered about Martha, if she was still at the shelter or maybe if she'd already skipped town and was headed to Vermont or wherever her kids were.

Lost in thought, he almost missed the house when he finally came upon it, cussing to himself when he had to go around again. Brian's house happened to be at the end of the cul-de-sac, making Eddie park a few houses down and have to walk the rest of the way. He only knew the street as Ben used to live here with his aunt before his mother raised up enough to move them to an apartment across town.

He initially hesitated upon seeing the house. Lights flashed inside and loud music played clearly from inside, only being deafened slightly by the walls. The brunet shook his head, confused over how any of the neighbors were sleeping through the noise. He even saw a passed out teen on the lawn, a drink lying at his side, haphazardly spilled out beside him. He scoffed and stepped over him, hesitating before he grasped the doorknob, and let himself in.

* * *

 

"Yo, Trashmouth, check this out!" 

"Hmm?" Richie hummed as he took a blow of the cigarette currently dangling in his fingers, before puffing it out.

"Dude, Daren completely passed out."

Richie looked out from where they sat on the side of the house, before grinning ear to ear. "Shit, he did."

"That's hilarious, you wanna draw on his face or something?"

Richie laughed, shaking his head. "Sure, sure, give me a minute." He continued to smoke the rest of his cigarette, before tossing it down and jumping off the bin he was sitting to stomp it out. He considered the other's offer again in his head, before shrugging. "I actually have to find someone in a minute, You do it without me, kay Ethan? Make sure you draw at least 3 dicks and give him the little teardrop thing drug lords have."

Ethan nodded, snickering at the request. The blonde left Richie, and he briefly considered smoking another. He gave in to the urge, pulling out his carton of Marlboro's, shaking it lightly and picking one out. He worked his lighter a few times before it eventually went and he lit it.

"Piece of shit," he murmured to himself. He'd have to buy a new one soon, or get one from whoever had an extra lying around. He pulled himself back onto the bins resting there, ignoring the stench of the ripe garbage piled up in them. He inhaled the dark smoke, relishing the way it curled into and heated his lungs, just before he blew it all out into a thick heave of tangling silver. It was his only defense against the cool night breeze right now, not that he minded either way. He'd have to remember a jacket next time.

Tozier continued to burn down the cigarette, staring blankly ahead and listening to whatever song was playing right now, however drowned out by the teenagers inside or the thick walls that held them back.

God did he hate-love parties.

He didn't even regularly talk to half the asshats in there, and the rest he didn't care too much about. The only reasons he came were the promises of booze, weed, whatever new drug was lazing around with _those_ kids (probably acid like last time), and possibly a good time with whichever girl was dumb enough to want it. Richie came to get fucked up, and that's what he always planned and ended up doing. He often found it nicer at parties. It's just...sad when you do it all alone.

Sure, he'd rather do it with a small group of friends and not make it a big thing, but they were never up for it and he'd always end up saying something stupid about his feelings or whatever. That's why he needed to do just enough to get completely totaled. It wasn't a good party unless you threw up at least once or blacked out.

Probably not the best motto, but whatever.

It was time for Richie's least favorite part of the night, reflecting. Reflecting on all the stupid shitty things he'd done that week, every goddamn regret, and oh yeah, how absolutely horrible he felt in general. That freshman girl that was trying to get with him, forgetting to pay the bills this week, wasting all his money on this, staring at that classmate so much, how he failed his driver's test (again), that disappointing look his English teacher gave him yesterday, that way that little kid looked close to crying, and Beverly. God, he wished he didn't have to see her anymore.

Beverly, Beverly, Beverly. 

Smoking outside of school Beverly.

Tell all my deepest darkest fears and regrets Beverly.

We're going to run away together, one day Beverly.

I really miss you Beverly.

Another thing- err person he hate-loved so much. Beverly Marsh, queen of the Barrens and future Cher. He could go on and on over why he hated her, and equally why he loved her. Beverly and her goddamn blazing red curls and piercing blue eyes; he'd never seen her coming. The way she and him had initially clicked instantly and were best friends within a span of weeks had amazed him. Someone who had seemed genuinely interested in him and what he thought, and didn't hesitate to give her honest, harsh opinion when Richie needed it most. It was almost unfair, cruel in a way that they separated. Especially after what they'd been through. They'd make promises of leaving Derry and never looking back. He missed that.

But now she had new friends and didn't need him, not that he blamed her. She was going somewhere and he wasn't. One day he'd hear her name on the radio as she was presented some award and he'd smile, glad to at least have known her briefly. Richie likes that thought, usually only this much when he's this drunk. Beverly and her damned blue eyes...

He needs another drink.

"Hey, stranger."

Richie blinks in confusion. He really does have the worst luck in the world.

"It's been a while." The redhead grins up at him where she's leaning on the house, slightly flushed.

He stares for a moment, but immediately his face lights up in pleasant surprise and he returns the smile.

"That it has. Speak of the devil though, I was just thinking about you."

"Hopefully nothing bad?"

"Of course not, Madame Frangine." Richie pulls a French gentleman accent, even bowing. Just for old times sake, he reminds himself.

Beverly's nose crinkles as she half cringes half laughs, and he laughs with her.

"I see your voices improved."

"Mmm-hmm. Been taking theatre all high school and practicing more. I saw you in class the other day, you switching in or just ditching?"

Beverly scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Ditching, of course." She moves to sit next to him and Richie scoots over to make room. He offers her a cigarette which she gladly accepts, leaning down to get a light from him. After a few tries, it goes, and she pulls up to exhale the smoke in her lungs. "God, your lighter is shit."

Richie snorts. "I know."

"Anyways, sadly, no. I have a core for that period, English. My friend has that class so I snuck in the last few minutes to gossip and bully him. I was also hoping to catch you."

The Noiret nods, taking one last drag on the cancer stick before he puts it out and flicks away the bud. "Yeah, yeah. That kid doesn't talk much, always looks annoyed.

"He thinks you're a little creepy, caught you staring at him or something."

"You know how I am, spacey and all that. I stare at everyone."

"Hmm."

They sit in silence for a few moments, sharing the cigarette between themselves. The cold air doesn't feel that bad anymore, and truth be told he doesn't mind the redhead's company at all. If anything he savors it and feels a little better. It's dark out, save for the dim stars (city lighting ruining it and all that) and the flashing lights from inside the house. The ruckus has calmed slightly, but he can still hear the blaring music and several conversations going on inside. Richie detaches from it and returns to his thoughts, feeling less depressed.

He's almost sad when the cigarette is down to its bud and Bev moves to stomp it out. She overs a sad smile.

"Well, I should get back inside. My friend is supposed to be here any minute, but I'll see you around, right?"

Richie grins. "Of course, mon amour."

She shakes her head despite the growing smile on her face. "Whatever dork, see ya."

She turns and heads back inside, leaving Richie nearly by himself. Just when he thinks he's alone Ethan rounds the corner, giving Bev a confused look as he passes. He only looks up with an expression of worry. "Hey, Richie."

"Yeah?"

"There's some guy asking around for you...says he needs you now. I think you've heard of him, remember that kid that used to be creepy with the girls back in middle school? Patrick Hockstetter?"

Richie's blood instantly chills over. "Hockstetter? What do you mean him? He was arrested last year. Remember?"

Ethan shrugs, shifting to his other leg. "I guess he got out? I don't know. But he's waiting up there and no one else will talk to him."

Richie stares at him with a blank, dumb expression, eyes clouding with an unreadable emotion. "Oh." He glances away for a moment, only to return with a distant look. "Yeah, I'll be right there. If anyone asks say I'm puking my brains out in an alleyway or something. I need to do something and I don't want anyone interrupting. Okay?"

Ethan nods, although with a dazed look but he doesn't push.

Richie stands up to his feet and begrudgingly walks past Ethan, accidentally pushing past him, gruffly. He makes his way inside, ignoring several people who call his name, only waving them off distantly. He starts to head upstairs, hesitating when he realizes he isn't ready for this. Turning back towards the kitchen, he pushes through the crowd and inside the room. His eyes scan around the several drinks around. There's a half taken 6-pack of Coronas, a mysterious pitcher full of a copper-red substance, and an open bottle of vodka, most of which has apparently been splashed all over the counter. He grabs the remainder of what's left in it and downs it, enjoying the first burn of it on the back of his throat. He normally wouldn't touch vodka unless cranberry juice was mixed in, but right now he can't be bothered to care. When it's gone, he pulls back with a satisfied breath and sets it down. He grabs two of the Coronas and finally leaves. 

The Noiret slowly waltzes up the stairs, feeling warm and anxious as he makes his way through the hall. He heads for the only bedroom not empty or making obscene noises, and pushes the already cracked door open, before quietly shutting it behind himself.

Only the bedside lamp is on, illuminating the figure of the older boy.

"Hey, Trashmouth."

Richie swallows hard and takes a step forward.

"Someone told me you asked for me, didn't know you were out of jail yet."

Patrick murmurs something inaudible, but grins anyways, that same sadistic piece-of-shit grin he's soon way too many times. His stomach curls in on itself in anticipation.

"Got out early, overcrowding down by Shawshank and the guards liked me." The words roll off his tongue like they don't belong there, stolen from something or someone, but Richie forces a smile anyway.

"That's good. I got you a little something from downstairs." He tosses Patrick one of the bottles and he readily catches it. He watches Patrick pull out a pocket knife to snap the cap off, offering to do the same for his. Richie nods his thanks, and Patrick pats the bed next to him. Richie loathes the way the boy eyes him like a serpent as he watches him come over, taking a sip of the beer.

"You miss me, Tozier? I know I missed you." Patrick licks a little excess liquid off of his lip as he stared Richie down, making him squirm. All Richie could do is nod, and take another swig of the alcohol, tastebuds burning.

"That's good."

Patrick takes a final sip before he wipes his lip and sets it down. He reached a hand up slowly and threaded his fingers through Richie's mop of hair, sending a visible shudder through him. It only seemed to encourage him further, grasping harder onto his roots. Richie groaned and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

Patrick practically purred at the reaction, using his grip to tilt Richie's head back. His eyes opened, still lidded as his dark eyes met Patrick's cool blue ones.

Patrick's lips crashed into Richie's, kissing him hard. He didn't give him a moment to adjust, in a second he was biting his bottom lip hard, busting it. Richie cried out, but neither stopped at that, continuing the messy kisses. Patrick only paused to lick up the blood dribbling out of the wound he's left. He pushed into the younger boy's mouth eagerly, not bothering to hint at it or let him adjust. Patrick explored his mouth, nipping at his lips every now and then, stealing his breath away. Richie pulled back for a second to catch his breath before Patrick was assaulting him again. His hand was still in his hair, kneading it roughly. 

Before he knew it, Richie was being pushed back on the bed, Patrick climbing on top of him. He pressed down on Richie, making him groan at the friction. The older boy moved from his mouth and down his jawline, sucking soft kisses over his skin. His other hand was pushing beneath Richie's shirt, ghosting lightly along his abdomen and sending even more shivers down the Noiret's spine.

When Patrick reached Richie's neck, he bit the area over his collarbone hard. It was strong enough to break the skin, causing him to yelp loudly and whimper when he felt the other suck on the bite.

Patrick pulled off, hot breath hitting his throat.

"I knew you'd miss me. You always come back, don't you?"

"Yes," Richie whispered his answer, vision cloudy. He closed his eyes, an uncomfortable but much too familiar feeling overcoming him. 

He couldn't wait for this night to be over.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh sorry if this sucks, I was just really excited to get into this again so I sort of wrote this all in one night, at 4 AM  
> Anyways I'm introducing Patrick into this because he's one of my favorite characters, and he'll be important in this.  
> Sorry about the overly self-indulgent and depressing Richie, I imagine he thinks way too much and reflects a lot on himself when he's wasted or alone, or both?  
> Aaaannnddd Richie-Bev friendship is getting rekindled. I'm really excited, I love writing for those two
> 
> Oh and I'm back! Hopefully!  
> Please leave kudos, comments or a bookmark to stay updated. Comments make my day and I try reading and responding to every one I get, I like knowing what you guys think.


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